


I think we’re alone now

by Jeyfeather1234



Series: Me, Myself, and I [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Episode: s01e09 Changes, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I just thought the scene at the end of the episode was neat, POV Second Person, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Vanya Hargreeves-centric, whether or not the white violin is a seperate entity is entirely up to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26697262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeyfeather1234/pseuds/Jeyfeather1234
Summary: Comfort is not your strong suit.
Series: Me, Myself, and I [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994410
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	I think we’re alone now

You pull your legs closer to your chest as you listen to Vanya vainly attempt to apologize to the captors who can’t hear her through the thick soundproof walls. She claws at the corners of the ugly metal door, pleading for an ounce of mercy that will never come. You don’t understand why she wastes her energy doing so. It wasn't as though they could hear her. Even if they could, they'd never let you out because you're too unpredictable for them (which is a real shame since you were actually starting to like Allison) and she was, in their eyes, a threat that needed to be contained. Or, more appropriately, a flaw in the perfect equation father had built and branded into their heads like the umbrella tattoos on their wrist that serves as a constant reminder that they were merely his cattle. But you are no such thing. You are not a domesticated animal, you are a storm; a fickle thing that should not be trifled with. If you can get Vanya to understand that then there's a possibility you can both leave this godforsaken prison for good this time.

After a moment, she quiets down and sinks to the floor in defeat. Her shoulders slump as a pitiful whimper escapes her lips. You lift your head a little when she glances your way. For a moment, you just stare at her. She looks like she's about to cry again so you move closer and let her rest her head on your lap. You don’t know what to say to her. Comfort is not one of your strong suits. Gingerly, you tuck her hair behind her ears and begin to scrape the caked blood she, or more accurately, Leonard failed to clean off from her fingernails. You frown, wiping the mess with the hem of your suit. It was obvious that he had had no interest in her passion for music or violin skills whatsoever because if so, he would've at least tried to make sure she looked presentable. You have a concert to attend to in a few hours. Vanya curls her fingers around yours and pulls it close to her. Your frown deepens as she peeks out the window. "Five's not coming," you say, returning to your task.

"You don't know that."

"When has he ever showed up to help you since he came back?" The words come out harsher than you intend, causing her to flinch. "He's too obsessed with the apocalypse to care about our safety."

"No, you're wrong. He...he wouldn't–"

"Wouldn't he?" You don’t mean to hurt her. Really, you want to do the opposite. Protect and destroy external threats: is that not what you were designed for? Was that not the task given to you by the creators? "He had his chance to prove himself but he left us here to die just like the others." Your voice wavers slightly towards the end. Vanya gives you that kicked puppy look she likes to wear as she sinks back down, grappling with the possibility that Brother Dearest might be a traitor just like the others. "He doesn't care about us anymore." She doesn't meet your gaze and falls silent, too distraught to say anything more. You squeeze her hand in an attempt to comfort her. "We'll talk later," you sigh, retreating back to the shelter of her mind.


End file.
